


Possess

by romanoff



Series: held [5]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - BDSM, Anal Fingering, Angst, Dom Steve Rogers, Fluff, Gratuitous Wish Fulfilment, M/M, Massage, Smut, Sub Tony Stark, snuggles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-01
Updated: 2015-03-01
Packaged: 2018-03-15 20:01:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3460148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romanoff/pseuds/romanoff
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony and Steve take a night for themselves to just relax. It goes exactly as planned, and then some. </p><p>(If anyone asks, Steve is absolutely not a sucker for blissed out Tony. Absolutely not.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Possess

**Author's Note:**

> Basically just smush.
> 
> Edit: I changed the title

After, he and Steve are lying in bed.

Tony has his head tucked against Steve's shoulder; the other man is dragging his hand over Tony's chest. Slow, smooth. Steady.

"Did you like that?" Tony says, voice low. He yawns slightly, stretches his legs on the bed. Steve smiles.

"That," he says, taking a deep breath "that was -- it was good."

Tony chuckles, wrapping Steve's arms around his middle. "Told you I was worth keeping around."

"You didn't even need to say it."

Tony makes a contented noise, his eyes closing as he tips back his head. He rests between Steve's legs, warm. The sheets are cool against his bare legs.

"You were so good, Tony," Steve murmurs into his hair. "The best."

Tony shivers, arching into the touch. "Say that again."

"You," Steve says softly, dragging his hands over Tony's shoulder, kneading them with his steady palms "you were so good. Such a good, good boy."

"Best blow job you've ever had?"

"One of my top three, certainly."

Tony makes a noise of approval, relaxing further into Steve's touch. His hands are warm, a sturdy pressure point against the soft coolness of the sheet beneath them. He lets his legs fall loose, over Steve's, spread, but comfortable. Steve smoothes his hair back from his head.

"You are a  _good_ boy," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to Tony's brow "so, so perfect, Tony."

"Yeah," Tony mutters "yeah, I'm good."

Steve kisses a line down his neck. "Beautiful."

Tony allows himself to arch into the touch, letting his head fall to the side. "Beautiful," he swallows "I -- yeah. You know I'm not under, right? You don't have to say stuff like that."

"Don't have to?" Steve says, letting his teeth scrape over the soft skin of Tony's shoulder. "I want to."

Tony shivers. 

"Do that again."

"This?" Steve asks lightly, dragging his nails so, so softly over the back of Tony's neck. "Does that feel good?" He whispers in his ear.

"So good," Tony says, slightly breathless. Steve holds his shoulder and tips him forward, bent at the waist. Smoothly, he drags the soft buds of his fingers over the plane over Tony's back, over his shoulder blades, his spine, down, down, to the point where his back bends, the first supple hint of ass curving beneath his fingers.

Tony shudders, arching. "Fuck," he breathes "that's -- magic."

Steve hums in agreement. He flattens his palms against Tony's shoulders, rubbing over his back with broad, long strokes. "Why don't you get on your belly," he says quietly "and I'll pay you back for that little treat."

Tony swallows. "You sure?" He says, and his voice is already loose. "It's late."

"Even better," Steve says softly "tomorrow, you'll sleep as long as you want, okay? No working yourself too hard. Is there anything urgent that needs done?"

Wordlessly, Tony shakes his head.

"Good," Steve says, sending a content feeling of warmth down Tony's chest "then we can take as long as we like."

Tony makes a soft noise, crawling onto his stomach. Steve smoothes his skin, runs his palms over the soft skin of Tony's ass, his thighs, lower till he's moving over the calves and lightly touching his feet. "Relax," he murmurs "breathe deep. I'm going to get lube."

He returns with a soft-scented oil, carefully straddling Tony's ass and letting a large amount pool on his hands, rubbing them together, slick sounds filling the air. He smells the liquid; vanilla, with some thing low and spicy mixed in.

"You had a bad day today." Steve states, sliding his hands down Tony's spine. Tony groans, nestles his head into his forearms braced beneath his brow. 

"What gave it away?" He mutters, shifting as Steve smoothes his thumbs over his shoulders, right at the point where they join the back of his neck.

"You offered to suck me," Steve remarks, casually. "You would never offer if you didn't want -- you know. Stress relief."

Tony chuckles, and it tails into a long, sweet moan as Steve digs his fingers into the knots along his spine. "Yeah," he breathes "stress relief."

Steve smiles and Tony's back shimmers in the low light. "I talked to someone at the store today.He said that he bets $5 you went to Caltech. And then I realised I didn't know. Which college  _did_ you go to?"

Tony groans. "You don't honestly think I went to Caltech, right? Right? Please tell me you didn't think that."

Steve shrugs, working at a particularly troublesome knot. "Honestly, it never occurred to me."

"Hold that thought," Tony winces. He arches his back out, digging his forearms into the bed, letting his head hang low. "Harder. Do that -- do it harder."

"I don't want it to hurt. Down -- hey -- " Steve pushes the back of his head into the mattress "stay. I want to make this feel good."

Tony moans gratuitously, kneading his hands in the sheet. "Please do it harder, Steve."

"That won't work." Steve says, voice rough. "Don't even try that."

Tony laughs, huffs a breath through his lips. "MIT." He says, eventually. "I went to MIT."

"That's what I thought." Steve says mildly, working his hands along Tony's back, slippery with the oil. "I'm gonna get you loose," he hums, running his fingers down the centre of Tony's back "and then," he shifts so he's kneeling between Tony's legs "I'm going to make you come."

Tony makes a soft noise, curling his hands by his head. He spreads his legs, just slightly. Enough that Steve can see the delicate skin of his sack pressed against the bed, the sharp dip of ass-meets-thigh.

"How does that sound?" He murmurs, dragging the tips of his fingers down the oh-so-sensitive back of Tony's thighs. "Does it sound good?"

"So good." Tony slurs. "So good, Sir."

Steve chuckles. With slippery hands, he takes the oil, squeezing it onto the small of Tony's back.

Drags his hands through the slick; down, down, over Tony's ass. His thighs.

Tony  _breathes_.

"You're sensitive here," Steve murmurs, trailing the tips of his fingers over the soft skin of Tony's inner thighs and round to the back, just where they meet his ass. "Look at you. You're shivering."

"Feels," Tony manages, words mashing together "good. Feels -- please."

"Yeah," Steve says " _please._ I love it when you beg, sweetheart. It's so beautiful."

Tony's lassitude is too thick to warrant an answer. It's easier to just lie there, let Steve service him. Steve is kneading the plump, oiled flesh of his ass, enough that Tony groans, and he hooks his thumbs, gently, between Tony's cheeks, enough that -- 

Steve draws a slick few fingers over Tony's hole, testing for give. He's still loose from yesterday. Good. Poor boy, Steve hadn't let him come. But he deserves it, now. Steve manages to fit in two fingers with minimal effort, the muscle straining around his fingers. He hooks his thumbs as best he can and  _stretches,_ tugging at the slack ring of muscle.

Tony makes a sharp noise, dragging himself forward. "Steve," he whines "you can't -- you have to fill me, you can't leave me empty."

"Hmm," Steve agrees, thoughtfully, absently fucking his fingers in a few times. "What if I did? What if I stretched you and left you loose and aching?"

"You wouldn't waste your time," Tony mutters "keep -- oh, oh  _Steve,"_  Tony keens, pressing forward on the sheets. "Just -- there."

"Right here?" Steve says innocently, rubbing the small bundle of nerves inside Tony. "That's where you want it?"

"Yes," Tony blurts, shivering. "Hard. Harder."

Steve draws his hand away. "Relax," he says, whispers, against Tony's next. "Let me take care of you."

Tony fists his hands into the sheets making a long, drawn out noise of frustration. "It's hard to relax when you keep  _teasing."_

"Do you want me to?" Steve asks, quietly. "Tease you? I can make it good."

Tony pauses. "No," he says, and his voice sounds heavy, exhausted. "No more games. Just -- I'd like it if you just took care of me."

"Tony," Steve mutters, voice rough. He straddles Tony's ass, dipping down to kiss the back of his neck "anything you want, sweetheart, you deserve it."

"Because I'm a good boy, right?" Tony yawns.

"Yes, you  _are."_ Steve says "And I'm going to take such good care of you."

Tony hums a laugh into the pillow Steve pushes beneath his arms. "Close your eyes," he murmurs "relax."

He dribbles the oil over Tony's shoulders, starting to work it in deep. Tony's is so  _tense,_ his muscles thick under Steve's steady hands. He's warm, though, real; when Steve rests his palm on the centre of his back, he feels it rise gently with long, slow breaths.

"You're so beautiful," Steve utters, voice hushed, as he presses his thumbs along Tony's spine "did you know that?"

Tony makes a soft noise of contentment, pushing his head against the pillow. "Sure." He slurs.

Steve slides down Tony's body in long, languorous strokes, fingers splayed across the tanned expanse of his skin. He kneads his knuckles, playing them down until they reach the plump flesh of Tony's ass. 

"I wanted to talk to you." He says quietly "I feel like I've been... I don't know. Remiss."

"Never." Tony assures, drooling into the pillow. Steve tease the cheeks of his ass, firmly massaging them under the points of his fingers. He debates slapping one, just to see it bounce, but tucks that idea away for another day.

"Yeah," Steve hums, moving his fingers down to play with the delicate insides of Tony's thighs "we've never talked about what you want."

Tony makes a vague noise of agreement, breath hitching as Steve trails his nails down the sensitive skin. So sensitive that Tony shivers, shifting on the sheets. "Oh," he says softly " _Steve."_

"Shh," Steve soothes "let it happen."

"Tickles." Tony mumbles, rolling his hips to alleviate the sensation. He makes a soft noise from the back of his throat,  _breathy._ It makes arousal, pure and hot, pool in Steve's groin.

But this isn't about him.

"What you want," Steve says again. Gently, he spreads Tony's legs, leaving him loose on the bed. With oiled hands, he teases the sensitive rim of his hole, the other man making a soft, sharp noise, quivering around the tips of his fingers. "How you like it."

"Any way -- " Tony takes a deep, shivering breath "Any way you want, Sir."

"Hmm," Steve hums, one hand splayed across Tony's lower back, the other gently working his hole. "But if it wasn't about me, say. Imagine, just a minute, it's about giving  _you_ pleasure."

"Me?" Tony asks, voice loose, slurred. "D'know, Steve. Tired."

"I know, sweetheart," Steve says softly "but just imagine. What's the -- " Steve swallows "the hottest thing you've ever done. That someone's ever done to you."

He can almost hear Steve's smile. "You try'na talk dirty, Stevie?"

"I'm trying to get an honest answer."

Tony chuckles, squirming slightly. "Why you wanna know, honey?" He murmurs, sighing.

"Because. I want to make you feel good."

"That's not how this works."

"It is for me."

"Oh yeah?"

"I...  _like_ that." Steve says carefully, pressing his thumbs into the tender muscle of Tony's calves. "I like... pleasuring, my subs."

"You like pleasuring us." Tony says flatly. "That's -- that's your kink?" He tries to roll over, but Steve stops him with a gentle hand to the small of his back.

"Yes," he says softly "I like seeing my subs desperate. Out of their minds with pleasure. Is that a bad thing?"

He moves one hand back to Tony's hole, sliding in his thumb and rubbing methodically against Tony's sweet spot. The other man gasps. "Steve," he breathes "Steve, I -- too much."

"Is it a bad thing?" Steve insists, not letting up. "Answer."

"No," Tony blurts, pressing back on Steve's fingers "no it's not bad. It's great. You're great, give me more -- "

Steve removes his hand in a single motion, bringing it back up to knead Tony's ass cheeks. "It's my kink." He continues. "My MO. I thought you'd figured that out."

"Well, yeah," Tony shivers, drawing himself forward slightly, sliding along the sheets. "But most doms, you like -- you know. Pain. Uh. Other things."

"I like pain." Steve says simply, and he moves forward over Tony's bare back, slides two fingers into his hole and leans so one hand is held tight on the back of Tony's neck, his lips hot by his ear. "But this isn't about me."

Tony makes a soft, breathy noise as Steve fucks his fingers absently in and out. He tosses his head, and Steve moves his hand from the back of his neck just to smooth the hair from his eyes. "Tell me," Tony gasps as Steve hits a deep spot inside him "tell me how you like pain."

"Oh?" Steve whispers in Tony's ear "Now you want me to talk dirty?"

"Steve," Tony whines, clenching down around Steve's thick fingers "please."

Steve fucks harder, the wet sound of slick filling the room as Steve pumps. Tony gasps, hands fisting in the sheets, legs squirming on the bed, but held down by Steve's hand. He moans, soft, arching against the touch, pushing back on the fingers, and Steve fucks him viciously, his hips twisting and rolling as he tries to gain friction against the bed.

"How I like pain?" Steve hums appreciatively, not letting up. "Well, I don't like using it to punish. You're not a child, and I'm not into it. And it would never be the main event, you know? Forcing you to bend over and slap you raw."

"Bend me over," Tony gasps "you could --  _now --_  "

"But if I took a crop," Steve says thoughtfully "and I splayed you out on the bed. Laid down red lines on the inside of your thighs, while you begged, cried. Maybe even screamed. Well, that's different, isn't it?"

Tony groans, arching his back, pushing back into Steve's fingers. "What else?" He breathes, whole body moving with the force of Steve's thrusts.

"I don't know, Tony, what else do you like? Tell me."

"You," Tony pants "you'd fuck me?"

"Well obviously," Steve says, drawing out his fingers. "Tony, sweetie, be more inventive. Here, turn over."

Steve gently twists his hips, rolling him onto his back. Like this, Steve can see his flushed cock, his damp hair, the light sheen of sweat on his chest. He smiles softly, tipping oil in a line down his sternum, the place where the arc reactor once sat. "Here," he says, voice hushed, and he smoothes his palm over Tony's skin.

He splays his fingers out, resting them on the slick flesh. His thumbs rub gentle circles over Tony's nipples; he shivers. Tony's back arches loosely into the touch, his breathing slowly, head tipped back, eyes closed. Steve pinches, and he shudders, short, high noise of pain escaping from his throat.

"Beautiful." Steve murmurs again. "You're so beautiful."

Tony shivers. "How will you fuck me?" He asks, lips barely moving, eyes still closed. "Tell me."

Steve considers. He trails his nails lightly down the centre of Tony's chest. "Do you mean how  _I'd_ like to fuck you?"

"Yes," Tony shudders "tell me. Everything. How you want it, the sounds I'd make, everything."

Steve nods. "Can you tell me your safeword?"

"Wh -- red?"

"Good boy." Steve hums. "Just in case." He adds.

"Play with my hole," Tony says, voice breathy "do it again."

Steve laughs, sliding down Tony's body. He crouches between his legs, taking his thighs and spreading them on the sheets, teasing the rim of Tony's stretched hole. "You want to know how I'd fuck you?"

" _Yes."_

"First, I'd get the cuffs. The ones that match your collar."

"Which collar?"

Steve debates. "I'd get the black one. Thin, with the name tag. I think it's beautiful."

Tony chokes on a sob as Steve follows a well-aimed thrust to his sweet spot, legs twisting on the bed. "Go on." He manages, face screwing with pleasure. "Keep talking."

"I'd have your wrists tied to the top of the bed, ass up. Splayed out, for me."

"Open," Tony gasps, fucking back on Steve's fingers "yes, yeah, loose, and, and ready -- "

"I'd have a spreader bar, beneath your thighs. How would that feel? To be held open for me, not even able to close, no matter what."

Tony's fingers twist in the sheets. "Yes," he breathes " _yes."_

"Maybe I'd spank you, first, to hear you scream, moan. Get it out of my system. Because then, I'd put a gag in your mouth. What do you think? Spider or ball?"

"Sp-spider," Tony manages, back arching "I wouldn't be able to talk just, just moans, whimpers, I'd -- I'd drool everywhere, get myself messy -- "

"And I'd know how desperate you were for it." Steve finishes. "That's right. And I'd fuck you, nice and simple, and you'd be drooling into pillow, arms stretched and hole open. You wouldn't be able to stop it, would you?"

Tony groans, grinding against Steve fingers as he takes his spare hand, drawing a line down Tony's cock. "I'd let you come." He says, conversationally. "I just wouldn't help. You'd have to come off being used, or nothing at all."

Tony's cries hit a note of desperation. He tries to work himself over Steve's fingers, head tipped back and throat bared, whole body shining with the oil. Steve grins.

"And after," he says conversationally "I'd leave you. Fucked out and desperate on the bed. Your hole would be  _gaping,_  you'd be all sloppy and used. Maybe I'd take a picture, show you whenever you get any ideas that you're a big man. Remind you that you take it on your knees, ass open wide."

Tony moans; he whole body arches as Steve picks up the pace, fucking him hard with his fingers, stretching him loose. 

"How's that for dirty talk?" He grunts, pistoning his fingers deep into Tony. "You'd take my whole fist if you could. Come, come like this or don't come at all."

Tony wail, face crumpling, and he gasps as he tries to get the right leverage, the right angle. Steve takes one thigh in his hand, bending it back and spreading Tony wide, getting the best shot he can to make Tony take it straight to his sweet-spot. The wet sound of fucking fills the air, matched only by Tony's now soft, breathy whimpers, his exclamations of pleasure, as Steve makes good on his promise to just  _take care of him_.

He comes; back arches, fingers twist, face screwed and eyes rolling into the back of his head. Steve keeps his fingers pressed against him the whole time, over-sensitised to the point of pain, until he lets go, sinking to the bed, panting and lax, finished.

Steve carefully, gently, removes his fingers, tries not to disrupt him as best he can. He wipes his fingers on his shirt, staining it with oil.

"Tony?" He asks, voice soft. "You okay?"

Tony sighs, eyelids fluttering open. "M'okay."

"Shall we shower?"

Tony's breath is released in a soft exhalation of air. "Shower." He murmurs in agreement.

Steve feeds his head under Tony's shoulders, sits him up. Supports him as he tiredly swings his feet to the floor, stands. Jarvis starts the water, warm and scented, and Tony breathes in the hot air, standing in the steam, back supported by the stone wall.

Tony takes a sponge and, despite his exhaustion, does what his designation tells him: he gets on his knees, washing Steve's legs, feet first, with tender and care. He starts with Steve's soles, works his way up to his groin, and then stands. He soaps Steve's chest, washes it free with his hands, and pours shampoo into his palm, working it through Steve's hair, standing on his toes.

Tony kisses him, once he's free of bubbles. Long and lingering. And then he falls back, losing his balance, soft wet tips of his fingers gliding over Steve's chest.

He holds the sponge; he looks at Steve through shuttered eyes, lashes fluttering. "Would you -- " he manages, head bowed. "Could -- "

It hurts Steve so deep that he is afraid to finish the sentence. He watches Tony begins to scrub down his belly, eyes fixed on the soapy ground, and he stops him with a firm, gentle hand to the wrist.

"No," he says softly "let me take care of you."

Tony smile is like the soft sun that streams through your window when you wake up on a summer morning. He relinquishes hold of the sponge easily, letting Steve wash him down, run the shower head over his body.

"Here," Steve murmurs, gently lowering Tony to his knees "let me make it good for you." He tips the shampoo onto Tony's scalp, working it into a lather. He massages his fingers into Tony's temple, over the back of his head, down to his neck.

Tony groans; shivers. "Steve," he breathes, as Steve works a knot free from his neck  _"Steve."_

"You did so good for me, Tony," Steve says as he methodically moves his fingers against Tony's scalp "so, so good. Does this feel nice?"

"So nice." Tony slurs, tipping his head back. He draws one arm back to grasp onto Steve's hip, grounding him. 

"It's so beautiful, watching you come undone like that."

"Did you mean it?" Tony asks, words mashing together "About the, what you said? With the restraints and, you know."

"Do you  _want_ to do that?"

"Sometime, maybe." Tony mumbles.

"Maybe not for our first," Steve says thoughtfully "hold on sweetie, head back -- that's it. Maybe not for our first time. For our first, I'd like it to be simple. No gimmicks."

"Gimmicks," Tony smiles. "That's, that's cute."

His voice is thick with exhaustion. Steve washes the suds clear from his hair, moves away, grabs a thick fluffy towel. "Stand?" He asks, and Tony manages to get to his feet, piling into the warmth.

Steve bundles him up like a burrito and then then wraps his own towel around his waist. He lies Tony down on the bed, quickly giving him a cursory dry and then pulling the warm, thick blanket over his chest. "Good?" He asks.

"Good." Tony mumbles, eyes falling shut. He yawns, rolling onto his side. "You g'nna stay?"

"Yeah I'm gonna stay," Steve says quietly, sliding in next to him. "Of course I'm going to stay."

Tony frowns, eyes still shut. "What were you doing at the store today?"

"What?"

"You said, earlier, you said you were are the store."

"Oh," Steve says lightly, swallowing. "Yeah."

Tony's eyes open. "Which store."

"I -- " Steve pauses. "Walmart." He says, weakly.

Tony pushes himself up on his arm. "What, you normally discuss your sub with the cashiers at walmart?"

"I like to chat."

"Tell the truth."

"I wanted it to be a surprise."

"Bingo!"

"Tony," Steve says, sitting up "I wanted -- " he sighs "I wanted it to be a surprise. You weren't supposed to know."

"What, and you thought I wasn't going to find out? Let me see it. I want to see it." Tony demands, all sense of lethargy gone. 

"We going to go to your house on Long Island, and I was going to make a picnic, and then then -- "

"What, we'd fuck on the beach?"

"No! But I'd give you -- "

"The collar."

" _Yes._ And it would be  _romantic._ This isn't -- " Steve sighs. "Could you just pretend you don't know? We can make it a surprise again?"

"Steve," Tony says quietly "nothing is more romantic than what we've done tonight."

"Tony."

"I mean it. Beaches and champagne that's," Tony waves a hand "that's planned. What's the word you use? Gimmicky. This is  _real._ Please. Let me see it. And then if you want you can put it away for another day and you can do the whole romance shtick."

Steve debates internally. Finally, he throws off the covers, padding over to the chest of drawers. "I had it made specially."

Tony's gone quiet, but he smiles. He's playing with his lower lip.

"And," Steve says, gracefully removing the slim, black box. "It comes with matching restraints. Ankle, wrist. A leash. I think I got your measurements right but -- if not, we can always have them altered -- "

"It's fine." Tony blurts as Steve settles on the bed, box in his hand. "It's fine, I -- can I see?"

"It's -- yeah." Steve says weakly. "It might not be to your taste. I can always get another, if it's too bad. But -- yeah. I hope you like it. Uh."

Tony runs his fingers over the box, gently easing the lid clear. Carefully, with fingers that are minutely shaking, he unfolds the paper.

Steve holds his breath.

Tony stares.

"I -- " he swallows "can I touch it?"

"Of course." Steve says quickly. "It's yours. Do you -- what do you think?"

Tony runs his hands over the gold plates, carefully lifts it over his fingers. "Oh, my God." He murmurs. "Oh my God. Steve, how much did this cost?"

"Money isn't an issue."

"Clearly." Tony says wistfully, running a thumb over the leather. "How -- how did you even do this without -- Steve, this is, this is  _thousands_ of dollars, this is,  _hundreds_ of thousands? The stones -- "

"Not quite, but I'm glad it looks it."

"I can't -- "

"Do you like it?"

"Yes, but -- "

"But what?"

"I can't accept -- " Tony's face is stricken "Steve, this is crazy. What happens if -- " he swallows "if, you know. I couldn't still have this if -- "

"If what." Steve says softly.

"If something happened." Tony answers tactfully. "If, if extenuating circumstances got in the way of our relationship. I couldn't take this from you."

"Is it cocky of me to say there won't be extenuating circumstances? Tony -- "

"No." Tony says "You have to be realistic. I haven't -- you know I've had zero relationships outside of contracts, right? I've never dated anyone. Ever. I don't -- I don't like that, just dating people because we held a contract. Sex isn't, it doesn't mean anything. You're different."

"So why would we break up?"

"Because you might not feel the same way."

Steve stares. "Tony," he says, voice low "do I seem like the kind of person to spend $70,000 on someone I don't love?"

"Love?" Tony says "You say -- wait, you spent  _$70,000_ on a  _collar --_  "

"Do you like it?"

"Yes!"

"Do you love me?"

"Yes!"

"Then I fail to see a problem. Turn around, let me clip it on."

"Steve -- 

"Tony." Steve murmurs. "Please. I want to it on you."

Tony swallows. "Yeah." He mumbles in acquiesce. "Okay."

Steve smoothes the leather over his fingers. It's not as heavy as you would expect; expensive brown at the base, because black is too harsh for a thing like Tony. Supple and comfortable, easy to mould over the muscles of the neck. Gold plates. A cluster of jewels in the centre, opals, aquamarine emeralds, a ring of rubies, a  _sapphire_ and finally topped with a diamond, a fucking  _massive_ diamond -- that's where the money really weighs in. 

Steve had looked at different suppliers. He'd considered Tiffany. Ultimately, he'd gone with the New York business that was world famous; the kind of place where royalty get their collars. It was indulgent, he knows. But he needs Tony to understand how much he means, and if monetary value is what convinces him he's here to stay, then so be it.

He slides the leather over Tony's neck, fixes the gold clasps. "How's it feel?"

"Good." Tony says quietly. "Will you -- "

"Yeah." Steve says, taking Tony's wrist. "Turn around. Let me do the restraints."

Steve feels the steady beat of Tony's pulse under the paper-like skin of his wrists. He slides on the restraints, leather and gold plated with rubies encrusted over the top. Then the ankles.

The leash; he hooks it carefully into the catch of the collar. Tugs, slightly. Tony moves forward, on all fours. This close, his eyes are glassy, half-lidded.

"Good boy," Steve murmurs. "You look -- it's beautiful."

The leather adds a darker contrast to Tony's skin, the rubies setting of the gold. The blue of the jewels on the collar catch the eye but are proportional to the rest of the design. It's tasteful. When Steve kneels and pulls gently on the leash, it crinkles, the soft clink of chains filling the room.

Tony crawls.

Steve wraps the chain around his wrist, drawing Tony close. "Kiss me." He orders, and Tony's lashes flutter, his head tipping up and his hands wrapping around the back of Steve's head. He sucks his lip, tongue sliding over Steve's, and it's all heat and wet and sex.

"Tony Stark," Steve breathes "will you be my sub?"

Tony head finds the crook of Steve's neck and Steve wraps the leash over his wrist, moving his arms to wrap around Tony's back. "Yes," he says, "yes of course I'll be your sub you utter -- you fucking -- "

"This isn't how it was supposed to go."

"Suck it up." Tony mumbles. "Life isn't perfect."

"You are."

Tony groans. "Oh God. That's so corny."

"I mean it, though." Steve brushes a thumb over Tony's cheek, earnest. "You are. To me, anyway.And that's -- yeah."

"Yeah." Tony agrees. "Yes."

Steve slowly nods. "So, uh. Is it okay if we take the jewellery off? Because, it's not really made for sleeping."

"Wouldn't want to wreck $70,000 worth, right?"

"It's actually a bit more than that. I mean, for the restraints. And the leash. And the -- " Steve's face heats "I got some more stuff, too. Nothing bad." He says quickly "Just -- you know. Some chains, some... clamps. A plug."

"Steve."

"Yes, Tony."

"How much money did you spend on a jewel encrusted plug."

"It's not all -- ew, no, that would be uncomfortable, right?"

"Right."

"So just the tip." Steve clarifies. "So I get to see -- "

"I get it, Jesus Christ. Steve you're a complete service top, aren't you?"

"Absolutely. Now get the jewellery off so we can snuggle."

Steve carefully helps Tony fold it back into the box, slides it away, safe, and presses Tony back under the covers. He sighs, wrapping his arms around Tony, folding him to his body, so they both lie on their sides, watching the window.

Tony's hands cover Steve's. "Thank you." He murmurs.

"You deserve it."

"No." Tony says "For being here. For being my dom. For loving me. I've never had -- no one's ever cared like you have. So thank you."

Sleep has made Tony unguarded. "You don't need to thank me."

"No," Tony agrees "but I want to anyway."

Steve settles for that. He rests his forehead against the back of Tony's neck; they sleep.

 

Later, Tony is sitting in his study, curled on the couch, reading.

He does this, sometimes. He rarely has time. But when he does, he likes to unwind by just... shutting off his screens. No TV, no tablets. Maybe if he could draw, that would be his hobby. But for a few hours, it's nice to just lose yourself in a book.

Steve knocks on his door. His hair is wet from the rain. His cowl in his hand. He's dressed in his suit, dark navy with the silver star. Tony puts down his book.

"Steve," he asks quietly "honey. Are you alright?"

Steve moves in a rush, he's on his knees, taking Tony's head in his hands, face wet, slippery. His breath is hot, though, although the rest of him is so cold. "I have you," he breathes "you're here."

Tony blinks. "Steve, of course I'm here, where else would I -- "

Steve kisses him. Tony kisses back. He wraps his hands in his hair, tugs him away. "What's wrong." He demands. "Something's happened. The mission, what -- "

"Nothing." Steve says "Never mind the mission."

"Steve."

Steve pulls away, standing. "Nothing." He says against, bracing his hands on Tony's desk. He wipes down his face. "It's just -- nothing. Perspective, Tony, putting things in perspective."

"Take off your boots."

"What?"

"Take them off. Come here."

Steve eyes Tony warily. "You don't -- "

"I'm not massaging your stanky feet, Steve, just take off your boots and come here."

Steve dumps his cowl on the desk, sitting on the couch and fiddling with the catch of his boots. He kicks them off and straightens. "Okay." He breathes.

"Belt too. Get comfy. That's it -- head down, on my lap."

"I'll make it wet."

"And I shall yet live." Tony says, dryly. "Do it. There. Okay. Breathe. Relax."

"Tony -- "

"Shh." He says, sharply. Tony rests his hand on Steve's head, cards through the wet hair. "Close your eyes." He murmurs.

"Tony," Steve breathes.

Tony keeps one hand fixed on Steve's head. He strokes, long and slow. His thumb draws over the wet skin of Steve's brow.

He clears his throat, and starts again. "In my younger and move vulnerable years," he begins "my father gave me some advice that I've been turning over in my mind ever since."

**Author's Note:**

> One: I have a lot of Tony Stark = Great Gatsby feelings  
> Two: I doubt that Steve would ever spend that much money on a piece of jewellery like everything in him would protest against it but still, let Tony have it. If it helps imagine they donate it to charity or something.
> 
> Coming up is some Steve angst, actual closure to Tony's traumatic past, and then some more Tony angst,
> 
> As usual, any comments are loved!! Really loved!! Literally anything!!
> 
> If you have any questions or prompts find me on MY NEW writing blog [romanoff](http://writingromanoff.tumblr.com/)


End file.
